


Definitely Lachrymose

by iamalivenow



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Actual Sexual Content tbd, Angst, Coping, Fire, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, Implied Relationships, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Multi, Murder, Mystery, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Possessive Behavior, Recovery, Slow To Update, Snark, Tadashi Lives, Tadashi Survives Au, Video Games as Therapy, Work In Progress, Yandere, bare with me, more tags to come, sort of, this is how i show my love, tw fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4032316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalivenow/pseuds/iamalivenow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tadashi doesn't die in the fire, At least, not all of him does. Maybe its for the better.<br/>Well, at least he thinks so.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I Haven't written anything in over a year, and then all of a sudden I got inspired by a line I didn't even use in this. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. My tumblr is iamalivenow, so please visit me there, if you like.  
> I can't promise anything in terms of an update schedule but I will try my hardest to keep it sensible. 
> 
> Not Betad, all mistakes are mine. I am not receiving any money from this.
> 
> Thank you for reading

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow. 

Ow.

Ow.

 

Everything hurts, you can barely breathe, chocking in smoke every time you open your mouth. Your skin is screaming at you, you can smell it burning, cracking in the inhuman, the unspeakable heat. A while ago something crashed into your head. Your ears are ringing. You can't even open your eyes if you wanted to. (You don't).

Why did you think going into a burning building was a good idea? What could have possibly possessed you into leaving your friends, your brother (Hiro?!), that perfectly decent night you were having? What could have made you think that this was going to end any differently? 

Probably your hero complex. 

You don't hear any screaming, just wood cracking, metal sinking, fire roaring next to you. Which is weird. There were definitely people in the building. There had to be. Callaghan was inside. You went in here for Callaghan. (So where the fuck was he?) 

You can't stand being in here a minute longer. You try and figure out where you are, trying to put your hands out and feel for something, any indication as to where you could be. The first thing you touch is scalding metal, (Because of course it is), so you're probably in one of the labs. You shift along a wall until your fingers feel glass. Window. You can work with this.

What floor were you on?

You're pretty sure you went up two stories while you could still keep your eyes open, and maybe half way up another flight in blind panic when something caught a blaze right next you and set your sweater on fire. So three and a half stories... 

You try to force the latch on the window open, but then you realize that the stupid metal thing is melted like every other thing probably is, so you opt for breaking the glass instead. Whats a few scratches when you are covered in second degree full thickness burns anyway. You punch it open, and you hear glass shatter. You pitch yourself over the window sill and jump. Something really big explodes behind you. 

Water never felt so good.

 

.-.-.-.-.

 

When you come to, it's pitch black, and you hear fading sirens. You finally crack open your eyes. The night sky is gorgeous above you, stars twinkling so far away from you (the fire, the pain) that there is a beauty in them you never noticed before. You are floating on your back, the water just as black as the sky above you, freezing cold, thank god. You don't move for a long time. 

There were no people in that building. 

Why? 

Callaghan was inside. You knew he was inside. Had he died before you could have gotten to him? Sure, it took you a few minutes to actually get to the university from the bridge but the fire only got truly horrific after you were in the building for a few minutes. You would have heard him. You should have heard him. Why didn't you hear him?

You try to stretch a little bit, careful, precise tiny movements. You start with your fingers. You can't feel the palms of your hands but, you could still more your hand decently enough. Elbow was a bit stiffer, but still doable. You don't roll your shoulders. You don't dare. Your sweater went up in seconds, and when you tried to rip it of it got tangled. Your back most defiantly got the worst of it. 

Your feet next then. The right one seems to be the only part of you body not hurt in someway, but the left one felt wrong. Sprained, or maybe broken? You didn't move much, since every inch made you hiss in agony. Your left knee still bent though, as did you right. You try to wiggle your hips, but that ebbs into your lower back.

You howl. 

It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it---

Fuck your stupid hero complex straight into hell. 

 

.-.-.-.

 

You don't know how you're going to move out of the stupid pond. You very slowly move your hand up to touch your stomach, to see if its as bad (awful, horrible, disgusting, repulsive, nasty, sickening, gross, atrocious, monstr-----) as your back. You wince sharply. No. Not as bad at all. Half formed second degree around your shoulders, first degree around your stomach. Totally manageable. 

You figure if you could just right yourself up, you could probably hobble somewhere. A hospital, or home. 

Oh God. 

They think you're dead.

All of a sudden you can't breathe again. You start suffocating on air that you definitely can't suck in fast enough. You're hyperventilating. You're pulse is shot to health. You're light headed. If you could still sweat you would probably be doing that profusely know. You try to stop seizing, but even though you can tell you're having a panic attack, you sure as fuck can't stop it. Your thrashing makes stretch your back again, and know you are gasping in pain. At some point in this conga line of horrible life choices, you flipped over, and are know sucking in water instead of air. You shove your hands in front of you to right yourself, scream all over again. 

At least you won't drown now. 

If your moped is still in the parking lot, (do you really think they would care about your moped if your dea-) you can make it home. Baymax is under your bead. He could probably fix you. Then you and Aunt Cass and Hiro will all laugh about this. And then you can figure out why Callaghan wasn't in the building. (Why wasn't he in the fucking building?)

You are now sitting waist deep in the pond trying to regulate your breathing as best you can with out thinking about Aunt Cass crying into her apron, thinking about how she was going to raise Hiro with out him, and god, Hiro crying hysterically in your room alone in the dark, probably cold- 

You vomit. 

After emptying your stomach into the pond, You lean forward on your still functioning knees, then back on your stable ankle, and stand up. How were you going to walk to the fucking bike if one of your legs wasn't working. You take a shaky step and almost fall back into the river, but you catch yourself last second with your stable leg. 

You are never, ever, ever, going anywhere even vaguely near another fire again in your life. 

You sort of walk, mostly hop to your moped and thank god it still there. This is a victory if there ever was one. You get on to it and reach for you keys. Your keys that were in your sweater. Which was set on fire. In the burning building. (Because Of Course they were.)

You are a robotics engineer with a minor in medicine and programming. You can hot wire a fucking moped. You just have to find the kill switch, find the ignition, which is always the white wire in a Honda. So, sure, you can't have the convenience of turn signals. Or headlights. But you think you'll manage to be careful enough. After all, you did almost die today. On three separate occasions. 

You get the engine to sputter to life. Victory! You almost throw your arms up and then remember yourself. Home. Get home. Get home in one piece. Aunt Cass. Hiro. Hiro. God, your poor Hiro. Your precious little brother. What were you thinking?! Callaghan. You had to save Callaghan. (Where the fuck was Callaghan?).

HOME. Focus on Home. You can totally do this. You are Tadashi Hamada God Damn It. You can totally so this. You take off into the deserted street. The cold air feels nice.

 

.-.-.-.

 

The lights are still on. You drop the bike and hop to the door. You knock on it as hard as you can with out ripping your back open again. You hear someone walk down the stairs. Aunt Cass rushes to the door. You raise you arms up instantly. 

“Tadashi!”

“Aunt Cass.”

“You aren't dead.”

“Uh, no. Not dead.” 

She goes in for a hug, but you back pedal really fast and lose you balance, crash into the door. You raise your arms to your mouth as fast as possible to try and stifle the scream that threatens to rip out of you. She turns white. 

“You need to go to a hospital. Now.”

“Aunt Cass?” 

Hiro's voice comes down from the stairs. You think you might actually cry. His voice is so hoarse and small its a miracle you heard it all. (Why didn't you hear Callaghan then?) You hear him walk down the stairs slowly and when his face comes into view you do cry. He can't say anything. He just stares. You do to. Then he slowly walks over to you and, in you shock, you can't move out of the way when he hugs you. You do scream that time. Hiro lurches back. You cry harder.

Your scream brought Baymax to life though, and you hear the robot plod his way down the stairs as well. 

“Hello, I am Baymax, your perso-”

“Just fix him Baymax.” Hiro manages. You are on you knees. You don't know when you dropped onto them. You feel like you might pass out at any given moment. You are so tired. “Please.” 

You sleep. 

.-.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I have all of my finals next week, I did this. Because I make good life decisions. I still don't know about my update schedule, but I hope you enjoy this.  
> Not Beta'd.

You spend the next week drifting in and out of consciousness. 

Baymax moved you to your bed after the initial scans and basic first aid on everything that first aid could be applied to. He set your ankle back in place, and wrapped a thick bandage around your head, and force fed you enough antibiotics to save a small village. All things considered, you are stupidly proud that he works. 

The burns are harder, obviously. He does everything he can for the second degrees, but the patch up job is awkward at best. Thank everything that is good in the world that you fell into that lake, because the damage would have been a lot worse. Your back though... Well, it wasn't just your back either, the burn started at two inches about the base of the skull and traveled all the way down to your lower thighs. 

Now, no matter how proud you were of Baymax, you made him to be a first responder, or even a nurse in an ER. He wasn't made to be able to give skin grafts. And even if he was, where would he get skin grafts? 

Legally?

Every time you drift back into reality there is always someone in the room with you. Aunt Cass, who doesn't come to close to you, mostly because the burns freak her out, you think. Your friends cycle in and out, Honey Lemon probably staying the longest, constantly fawning over you. Hiro. Hiro was always there, and inch away as soon as you open your eyes. 

Sure he slept in here with you, but you liked to think it was because he loved you the most. 

The first two days you can barely keep awake for longer than five minutes at a time. Day three and four, half an hour and the ability to actually talk. Day five, you were able to stay up for three hours, and kept up conversation. Day six, you tried to sit up, almost fell off of the bed, and were thoroughly berated for a few minutes before you fained tiredness. Day seven, you actually did sit up. 

Your leg was better. So were most of your two degrees. So was your head. You consider this to be a victory. Everything that could heal did. 

The entire week of instability bore great results. 

Physically.

You're pretty sure going over the same question, the same scenario over and over and over and over and over and over in your head was not healthy for you. But you did it anyway. You asked Hiro about it.

“Where's Callaghan?”

“...” 

It was exceedingly rare for Hiro to not talk. Every time he rushed to your side he was always chattering about something. Anything, really. You think it might be so your brain doesn't atrophy. You want to tell him that he really doesn't need to strain himself for your expense, but you decide against it. 

“Hiro, please. Just tell me if I could- If I missed him.”

“They didn't find anything.” (Of course they didn't. He wasn't there, why wasn't he there, he had to be there, you didn't just run into a burning building for nothing, why wasn't he there, he had to be there, why---)

“What do you mean they didn't find anything? How did they-”

“There was nothing to find, Dashi. The building caved in. They can't find anything.” 

He sounded so serious when he said, so grim. You think about the way he sounded for a moment, a brief silent moment before Hiro starts talking about something else. 

“I heard that there's going to be a fair on our street. Something about cultural relevance, and I know you can't go yet, but you could probably see it from our window, since you can sit by now, and you need to walk sooner or later other wise all your muscles will atrophy and then you will just end up a couch potato for the rest of your life and not that thats a bad thing, cause you know, Aunt Cass and me will always be there for you and your horrible life choices, but I think it would be better if you would actually, you know, move around and stuff.” 

The fact that he didn't stop to take a breathe once was very impressive. 

But his tone bugged you. Something wasn't right. It wasn't his usual snarky cheery voice. It was to somber for a fourteen year old. Why would he -

Oh.

He feels guilty. 

You take a shuddering gasp. 

“-And there are going to be people in geisha clothing, I think Go Go is secretly really excited about that, because her great grandmother was-” 

“You couldn't have changed anything.”

“A ge- What?” 

The look of genuine confusion upsets you for a second. Maybe you saw something that wasn't there, and now you put that idea into this head. Oh god you are the worst at this, why did you say anything.

“You feel guilty right?” 

Why did you keep talking? (Shut up shut up shut up) The look on his face makes you want to pull your hair out. Or what was left of you hair. 

“Don't. There was nothing you could have changed, or done, or said that would have stopped me from running into the fire. So don't blame your self, don't feel guilty over something your stupid older brother did.”

The fact that he punches you in the chest really throws you.

“You fucking idiot!” He screams and hits you again.

“Language.” You say. He hits you again. 

You deserve it. You really really do. You monster. How could you leave him?

“There was nothing I could do?! Bullshit! There were a million things I could have done, and you really think I haven't thought of each and every single one of them!?” He hits you again. 

It'll probably bruise. 

“And everything I could have, should have, done aside, why did you do that? Why did you fucking leave me you asshole?! Do you know how much I screamed, how much I cried, how much I fucking mourned you?! You're my brother! The last part of my first family you fucking dick!”

It will definitely bruise.

“Did you think I wouldn't miss you?! Is that it?! Did you think I wouldn't care?!” 

He's pounding your chest with both of his fits now. 

Ow.

You fell back after the first punch and now he's kneeling on top of you. Every hit connects with his full body weight behind it. It hurts. 

The fact that he's crying again hurts even more. 

You wrap your arms around him and tug him down till he's sprawled on top of you, shaking in your hands. You hug him for the first time since the fire. He's sobbing into your chest.

“How could you leave me?” 

You fucking monster.

 

.-.-.-.

 

It's been an hour since then and you are both exhausted. 

Hiro stopped hitting you a while ago, but he only stopped crying a few minutes ago. You don't know when you started crying but you stopped now too. You both just lay there. You don't ever want to let him go. 

You creep.

“I'm sorry.” He mumbles. 

“I deserve it.” You say into his hair. 

He lifts his head up and stares at you for a bit until he sit up and get off of you. He looks down at his shirt and at your tank top and frowns. 

“You need to change.”

“So do you.” 

He walks over to your little cabinet and pulls out another tank top. He urges you to take the one your wearing of, and you oblige him as best you can with out moving to quickly. He was right about your muscles atrophying. 

Healthy living. 

He tugs on another t-shirt and looks back at you. Then at the door. 

“Are you hungry?” You ask, because if you think about it, he hasn't eaten today. 

“I could eat.” He says back. “I'll go ask Aunt Cass to make us something.”

“Alright.” 

He leaves. 

You are now alone. 

Hm. 

You think you should make a list. 

From the brief time you took a psych class for minor in medicine your vaguely remember that making lists was a good way to keep things in check and to ground yourself. You roll your shoulders slowly, and wiggle your arms and legs as best you can, before reaching for the notepad and pen that you keep on your nightstand. For ideas that you might get in the middle of the night. Because you never really know when that million idea can strike. You uncap your pen. 

 

Tadashi's List of Problems

1) Muscle atrophy (minor)  
2) Making Hiro not hate you (God Please.)  
3) Where is Callaghan???

 

Well, that didn't make you feel better but at least you have a way to organize your thoughts. Number one is an easy fix anyway. Just walk around a little. Maybe some movement therapy, but you really don't think it's that bad yet. Number two was definitely the most important thing. Number three was... irritating. Because really...

Where was he?

Hiro comes back at that moment and sees you with the notepad. Its not like you can just hide things quickly now.

“What are you writing?”

“Just a list. You know, to organize my thoughts.”

“Nerd.”

You can't help but smile like an idiot at that. Maybe number two wasn't going to be so hard. 

“Guess somethings never change then.” 

Hiro nods. The he glances over to the old TV in your room.

“Want to watch Pacific Rim?” You nod.

Because even though both of you have seen that movie twenty times, how could you possibly say no to your brother?

 

.-.-.-.

 

Two days later you are proud to say that you are sitting in the coffee shop downstairs. You are even prouder to say that you got there on your own. Sure you felt stiff as a board moving walking down the stairs but if this isn't physical proof of your achievement and persistence you don't know what is. 

You also think that sitting in your room for an entire week makes you really corny. 

Hiro agrees entirely. 

You are sitting with your brother and your four friends. Your spot is in the sun and it feels great against the part of your skin that can still actually feel things. You are also wearing a t-shirt. The fabric scratches against your sensitive shoulders and tummy but you think its better then wearing a tank top and watching everyone cringe away from you. 

Go Go, Honey Lemon, Wasabi, Fred, and Hiro are all very exited about cultural relevance fair. You are very confused by how you didn't hear about it even once before the fire with everyone literally bouncing around you. Sure you were busy helping Hiro (worrying about Hiro) with his microbots but you didn't completely phase everything out while that was happening. 

Right?

“We should all dress up! Full Costume!” Honey Lemon chimes in. 

Was she always that loud? 

Not a bad loud.

Her voice just cut right through your thoughts.

Weird.

“Definitely!” Fred chimes in. “I can go as a-”

“No Fred.” Wasabi cuts him immediately. Probably for the better. “We are all going as people. Normal. Human. People.”

“Non-negotiable.” Go Go agrees from across him. 

“Shot down!” Hiro laughs.

“But guys!” Fred really seemed upset. 

“NO.” Wasabi and Go Go say in unison. 

Honey and Hiro laugh. You think that Go Go and Wasabi are probably dating. They do have a lot in common. Good for them. 

Fred starts moping. Honey Lemon slips her hand into his. Wait, are they also dating? Good for them?

Why aren't you dating anyone?

You sigh. 

“Oh! Tadashi, bro, here! Almost forgot 'bout this.” Fred reaches into the bag he carried around with him and pulls out what looks like a video game. 

“Uh. Thanks...?” 

He thrusts it into your hands rather animatedly. You flip the slender device over in your hands. It looks brand new. 

“Did you buy this?”

“Yeah! I mean, I wasn't going to give you mine! No offense, but, my baby is sacred.” 

Hiro plucked it out of your hands and started fiddling with it, until he pushed something and the screen lite up. Fred took it out of Hiro's hands and gave it back to you.

“It cues up to your biometrics. State of the art, straight from Japan.” A few characters appeared on the screen telling you to put your finger to it. So it was touch screen? But it also had buttons? You do as the machine tells you to, and then it goes through a regular configuration. 

“Thanks Fred.” And then a minute later, “Not that I'm not grateful, but, uh... why?”

“Hugh? Oh! For the, you know.” He gestures at all you. He probably meant the fire. “My dad was in the war.” Which war? “And he plays video games all the time. Says it helps him relax and stuff. Thought you might like it. To help you get through shit.”

“Language.” You say automatically. He laughs.

“Sorry dude. But yeah, have fun with it. You just buy all the games online. I preloaded it with a lot of money so don't worry about it!” 

“Aww, Freddy that's really sweet!” Honey cheers. Everyone nods with approval. Hiro looks like he really wants to play with it though. 

You should buy him one too. 

(With what money?)

 

.-.-.-.

 

“Thanks for coming over!” Aunt Cass tells them. Its getting dark out, and she's going to close the cafe soon. Hiro already went upstairs with your new toy. Apparently it has a friend feature that lets others play. How considerate. 

As they leave you stiffly walk out after them leaning on a wall. “Thanks for coming. Really!” 

“Sure dude, anytime!” Fred cheers. He and Honey Lemon head over to an expensive car. You guess it's probably Fred's fathers, but who knows. It could be Fred's.

Before Go Go and Wasabi walk away you grab their arms. 

“Really, thanks guys.”

“Anytime Tadashi.” Wasabi says. 

“Just ask already.” Go Go says.

Are you really that easy to read?

“Ask what?” Wasabi asks. You and Go Go were always on the same wavelength.

“Did they find Callaghan's body?”

“Tadashi.” Wasabi sounds so disappointed at him.

“I need to know, please.”

“They didn't find anything.” Go Go says and grabs Wasabi by the arm. “You need to let this go. Move on. Play on Fred's game. Stop hanging on to this.” 

“Right.” You say, because they're probably right. “But still did they?”

They look at you with sadness.

“They didn't find anything.” Wasabi says.

“Right. Sorry to bring you guys down. Thanks for swinging by. Call so we can make plans about the fair.” They nod and walk away from you. 

You take a deep breath.

 

 

Where the fuck is Callaghan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are slowly but surely getting to something vaguely resembling a plot. I hope you all liked it and if you did, tell me. My tumblr is iamalivenow, so swing on by. Thanks for read :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already done with one of my finals, only two more to go.   
> I failed to specify last time, the Machine is basically a Vita. So just imagine that, I guess.   
> The chapter sort of got away from me,  
> But I hope you enjoy anyway.   
> We are slowly but surely getting to a plot.   
> Not Beta'd

Go through the door.

Grab the bat.

Wait for the dog. 

Open the door. 

Move to the low side of the hall way. 

Wait for the goon. 

Open the door.

Knock him out. 

Bash the other goon's head in.

Bash the first goon's head in.

Walk into the hallway.

Get mauled by the dog.

“Fuck!” 

“Language!” 

To add insult to injury, Hiro chides you and then bursts into laughter. 

Hotline Miami was made by Satan. Lucifer himself rose from the depths of hell and upon deciding that there was to much good in the world made a video game and that game was Hotline Miami. 

God is dead. 

“Want me to beat the level for you?” Hiro asks swirling in his chair, fiddling with Megabot.

“No. I'll get it eventually. What are you doing with that?” 

You restart the level and get two steps before the dog mauls you. Again. You can't keep doing this to yourself. It isn't worth it. You see Hiro's score bounce on the screen on top of yours and decide that yes, it is absolutely worth it. 

“I want to make him faster.”

You restart the level. Maybe if you don't pay attention to the game at all you might win. 

“Why? You aren't going to start bot fighting again right?”

“...No. Probably not, anyway.” 

Thats as honest as he ever was when it came to this. Guess you're going to have to resew those trackers he tore out. Because you love him. So much. 

“What level are you even on?” He asks and gets up from his chair to dig in a drawer for his micro-kit.

“I don't even know anymore.” You mumble. 

This game has killed you and you are dead. Again. 

No more. You can't do this. You exit out of the game and look at what else Hiro has bought on your system. You slide through the menus until you see something that you don't recognize. You tap the icon. It gets bigger and shows a picture of a heart. An anatomically correct heart. Uhhh. 

“Hiro, did you buy anything new?”

“Why, you give up already?”

“...No.”

He laughs again. It sounds nice. 

“Nothing since Wednesday. You can play Shovel Knight though. It's a platformer. You're good at those.”

“Gee thanks little bro. Love you too.” He just laughs louder. 

You push the picture and the game loads up. At least you think it's a game. When it finally loads the heart is back. Its set on a black background with a light grey outline. It beats slowly. Maybe it's just a health feature? Arn't all video games supposed to tell you to go outside or something? Isn't that mandatory now a days?

When you tap your finger against it, nothing seems to happen. You slide the screen to right and the left and down. Nothing happens. Then you slide it up. 

A character select screen appears. 

You break out into a cold sweat. 

You see a chibi version of you looking back at you. And it's not just your name, its your hair and your skin and your eyes and your clothes and your hat and your...

Your burns. 

You sit up sharply. “Hey, Hiro, did this system come with a health feature?”

“No, why? Want me to call Baymax? Check your blood pressure like an old lady?”

You can't talk for a second.

“Did you make this?”

You shove the screen in his direction. He's slow to turn around, and slower still to walk over. Since you're lying on your back he has to lean down to see the screen. 

“Why would I make that?” He looks genuinely offended. 

“Because I didn't.” You say. 

“Maybe it has a camera feature or something, Dashi. It's a new feature in lots of systems.”

“Right. It's just. The..” You point at the obvious problem. 

“Fred did say it was advanced, didn't he? Maybe its an inclusivity thing.” You nod. That must be it. 

Hiro walks back to his spot on his chair. 

“Do they really bug you that much?” 

You don't know if he's looking at you or not but you nod. He sighs. 

“You can't change anything.” 

Well, obviously. What's done is done. You waited to long, and it's not like you hire a specialist to fix you. And anyway --

Wait.

Isn't that what you said last week?

That he couldn't change anything? 

“What?”

“They don't change anything, Dashi. Me and Cass and all of your friends, we still love you. Even if you're wrinkly now.” 

That wasn't what he said. 

“Is that what you said?”

He looks at you. 

“Did I stutter?” He gets up and walks back to you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. “For a such a big nerd, you sure are dumb, Dashi.” He whispers. “Of course we all still love you.”

You take a deep breathe and hug him back. 

That wasn't what he said. 

 

.-.-.-.

 

It's pretty late now. One in the morning if the clock on your bedside table is to be trusted. Hiro's in bed, breathing lightly. You can't hear much of anything. You should just go to sleep. Forget what happened. Move on and-

You turn the system back on. You find the icon again and realize it doesn't have a name. You start it up and the heart beat is at the same steady pace that it was when you first found it. You swipe up and stare back at the little you. You tap his head. He jumps up and smiles. 

Then he waves at you. 

Just a program. Just a program. Just a program. 

The little you moves out of his spot and points down with a fat arm. You swipe down for him, and when you are back on the heart menu, he climbs down and stands next to it. Then there is a beep. 

“Sync complete.” Says a high pitched voice. 

This requires experimentation.

You reach into your nightstand and pull out your sewing kit. You find a thin needle, rest the system in your lap so you clearly aren't touching it and shove the needle into your thumb. It isn't a lot of pain, but you draw blood. 

And watch the heart beat on the screen speed up just slightly and the little you grab his arm. A text bubble appears over him. It says Ow. 

You must be asleep. This is a dream. The entire day was a dream. You haven't even woken up yet. This is not happening. 

You watch the little you point to the right with his unhurt arm, and you swipe right for him. There is an entire medical history's worth of information there. Wait...

That is your medical history. 

Little you plods over and points to the very bottom.

“Slight laceration on right thumb. October, 7th, 2014, 1:08 AM.”

You want to through the machine across the room. 

You choose to not read the rest of if it and swipe left. Then you swipe down.

There is a gps starring you in the face. 

You want to nope out of this entire situation so hard, but you take a deep breathe and realize, that yes. It is accurate. (Of course it is.)

You swipe back up and to the left. 

That was a mistake. 

While at first it appeared to be a stat list, you start reading the minute details as you scroll lower and lower down the list. It started of simply enough. Your IQ, measurements, strengths, weaknesses, hobbies, zodiac, favorites. The lower you went however... Number of times you were in love, number of times you were in hate, number of times you hurt someone. Your fears. Your fetishes.

Number of times you masturbated. (57)

What the fuck. 

Who you thought about while doing it. (-)

What the fuck. 

How many times you fucked someone. (0)

What the fuck.

How many times you wished someone was dead. (3)

What the fuck.

How many times you wished you were dead. (1)

What the fuck.

How many times you've committed murder. (0)

You throw the machine against the wall. 

Hiro doesn't even wake up. 

You take a deep breathe. 

Get up.

Pick up the machine again. 

Crawl back into bed. 

You return to the middle screen and brush it up. The little you crawls back into his spot. Then you swipe left. 

You feel sick. 

A little Hiro stares back you. 

You feel worse when you tap him. 

He smiles and waves and points down. 

You swipe down. 

He stands next to the heart.

Theres a beep. 

“Sync completed.” 

You don't even know which direction would make you feel sicker. 

You check all three. The right and down are both correct. It's not like you know if the left is right. (It's not like you want to know.)

You watch the heart beat rhythmically to the speed of Hiro's breathing. Okay. 

This. And ONLY this is sort of nice. At least you can know where he is. If he hurts himself. The way his heart beats.

Creep.

You swipe back up, and the little Hiro crawls into his spot. You swipe left. 

A little Aunt Cass stares back at you. You repeat the same process you did for yourself and Hiro, though, this time you stay out of the left side. You don't need that in your life. You send her back up and swipe left. 

Fred. You do the same thing for him. Then you swipe left. Honey Lemon. You tap her, swipe down and wait for the beep. It never comes. 

What?

You tap little her. She frowns up at you and a text bubble appears. It says “I never touched this.” The heart is still beating though. It was still when you had no one selected. So then... 

Oh.

OH. 

You send her back up. 

You and Hiro play with this thing all the time. Fred gave it to you. You guess Aunt Cass must have moved it around while she as cleaning? Maybe? But then why was Honey Lemon even here? 

You swipe left again. Go Go, Wasabi. Mochi. Baymax. Baymax isn't even human. 

You swipe left one more time. 

You throw the machine again. 

Hiro stirs. You watch him groggily sit up. “Dashi?”

“Yeah, sorry, bro. I just can't beat that level.” You see him nodded and fall back into bed. 

Why are you lying to him?

You get up and pick up the machine again. 

Callaghan stares back at you. 

He doesn't wave and smile like the rest of the figures. He just stares. You tap him and swipe down. He takes him time getting down. Much slower then all the others. He stands next to the heart. 

(Where's Callaghan? Where's Callaghan? Where's Callaghan?)

And then the heart beats. 

.-.-.-.

 

It's safe to say that you didn't sleep at all. 

Actually, it's safe to say that that was the worst night's rest you have ever had. 

And you are absolutely counting the night you almost died in a fire. 

You pull out your notepad. 

(Yeah, just fix your list. List's solve everything. Obviously. Moron.)

 

Tadashi's List of Problems

1)Muscle atrophy (minor) SOLVED  
2) Making Hiro not hate you (God Please.) PARTIALLY SOLVED  
3) Where is Callaghan??? ALIVE. (maybe)  
4)What the fuck is that machine.   
5)Question Fred. Thoroughly.   
6) Find Callaghan. 

 

“More lists?” 

You jump. 

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I'm going to hang out with Fred and Honey today. Work on stuff for the festival.”

“Have fun.” 

“Uh, well, actually...” 

He was pouting at you. What did you do to deserve this. 

“Aunt Cass asked me to clean up, and I know how much better you are that and-”

“Hiro.”

“Please? Please please please?”

You sigh. As if you're going to say no.

“Go ahead.” He literally jumps up with excitement, hugs you, and sprints out of the room before you have a chance to say anything. Or have a chance to change your mind. 

You figure you should start with the bed. It is a well known fact that Hiro's bed, and anything around it, is essential a black hole. For garbage. 

You strip his sheets and throw them in the laundry basket. It's been a while since you did laundry anyway. Might as well get all of his clothes too. 

You sigh and kneel looking under the bed. 

Not nearly as bad as you were expecting this to be. Just two shirts, a pair of underwear, and his hoodie. 

You pull all of that out from under there so you don't have to lean over any more. You fold the shirts and the underwear and are about to fold the hoodie when you hear a quiet buzzing. You reach into his pocket and pull out a little black pill?

No, it's one of Hiro's microbots. The one that Allister Krei tried to steal from him. It buzzes in your hands. Almost as if its trying to get to the others. 

But there are no others, right? 

They all burned in the fire. 

Right?

The little robot sure seems to want to go somewhere though. You look out the window. It is a nice day, and you haven't been outside in a while. You look at Hiro's desk and see a petri dish. You place the bot there and close it with a lid. Tug on a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans and a hoodie. Some socks and sneakers later you are ready to brave the outside word. 

On a whim you grab the machine. You might have to take the bus, and maybe you can beat a level in Hotline Miami. 

(You can spy on Hiro this way.)

You grab the laundry basket, take it downstairs and tell Aunt Cass that your going out.

“Really?!” She seems over joyed.

“I figured it was about time.” You answer back and are just about to leave as she rushes to you and hugs you from the back. You spin around and hug her back. She hasn't touched you in a while. It's nice.

“I'll be back before it gets to dark. Bye Aunt Cass!” You step outside. Take a deep breathe. Look at the petri dish. 

And march off in that direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> If you like it shoot me a comment.  
> I'm still all over the place with the schedule, but at least once a week, it seems.   
> Thank you :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I finished with college last week and was running around like a maniac trying to settle everything I had to, which is why this took so long.   
> Anyway, thanks as always for taking the time to read this.   
> I want to say I have a schedule for this, but I don't.   
> Sorry.   
> Not Beta'd

The streets of San Fransokyo were always so busy and lively, cars rushing by, dogs and cats running into allies, children crying at the top of their lungs. 

You feel invigorated. 

It really has been a while since you've been outside for real. The sun feels great on your skin. You push the sleeves on your hoodie as far back as they can go, and stretch. Your spine pops, your muscles pull with satisfaction. What a great day. 

The little robot beats against the petri-dish to the rhythm of your steps as you go down side streets and back allies. You pull out the Machine.

You have no idea what the thing is actually called. Fred didn't tell you, and the name isn't anywhere on it, so the Machine seems like a decent thing to call it. 

In other news, you are the most inventive person in all of San Fransokyo when it comes to names. 

You tap through the menus until you get to the heart icon. 

In all of your wandering and invigoration, you managed to get totally lost. 

You go through the procedures and find out that you're in the warehouse district. Not to far from the docks. Maybe the rest of the micro bots are at the bottom of the ocean? Thats silly. 

(They would only be at the bottom of the ocean if someone was getting rid of evidence.)

Just as you're about to enter the genuine docks the microbot violently beats itself into the right side of the petri-dish and you turn accordingly, almost walking into a wall. You do manage to look up at the last minute and spare yourself a broken nose. 

Its a huge warehouse. Definitely empty, from the amount of junk and debris around you. And you would have choked it up to the microbot falling one too many times, if you hadn't seen the door. 

The door was clean. The handle devoid of the dust everything around it had accumulated. The lack of garbage around it. 

The fact that it had a huge padlock. 

Like, cartoon sized. 

You walk over to it and pick it up in your hand. It weighs a lot. You sigh. 

You look around the building, take a lap. You need a break. 

You sit on the floor, try not to think about how grimy it is, and stare at the lock. You pull out the Machine. You might as well check where Hiro is. It's not like you have anything better to do. 

Hiro is in Fred's mansion. Fred is also in Fred's mansion. You are not surprised. 

Then you get a notification and almost throw the stupid thing again, but you figure you should stop doing that. God knows if you could fix it if you actually managed to break it. Or if you would even want to. 

“Hiro is thinking about you.” It says as little Hiro's head pops up. 

“Why would you know that?” You ask it out loud. At this point you wouldn't be surprised if it answered back. You turn it off. You don't need this. 

You don't want to ask it how he's thinking about you either. 

Because that is creepy. 

Don't be a creep. 

You throw your head back and sigh. 

Deeply. 

And then you see it. 

The window is open. 

You are an idiot. 

You put the Machine into your pocket. And then you start stretching. You touch your toes, do a couple of lunges, and flex your arms. Okay. 

Lets parkour this. 

You decided to take lessons the same time Go Go did. She took it because your self defense teacher told both of you that you had depressingly low stamina. That was four years ago. Now, though, now you can kick ass and take names. 

You get a running start, and grab a ledge. When the building doesn't cave in around you, you lift you right foot up to the top door hinge, hoist yourself up, and you're in. 

Victory!

You seem to be on an catwalk over looking an empty warehouse. Well, mostly empty. The microbot is seizing downward now. You see the white tent, hear the quite tone of a machine hum, the drag of a conveyer belt. You also see entire boxes of microbots. 

Well. 

Ugh.

What?

Even though you desperately want to drop down from the catwalk and look around, you think that really isn't a good idea. You sit down and try to understand what the hell is going on. 

So.

The fire happened. You didn't hallucinate that part, you have your back to prove that. 

Anyway. You got away, jumped out a window. There were no other survivors. Except for maybe Callaghan. If the Machine wasn't lying to you. If the Machine is even real. 

Anyway. The building was disintegrated. Structurally collapsed. Everything inside was either set on fire, or crushed. Except for Hiro's microbots. 

For some reason. 

He didn't design them to be fireproof, or to be able to withstand high amounts of pressure. The only thing Hiro designed them to do was to gather together with electro magnets, and to be able to be controlled through a neural transmitter. Neither of which survived the fire. 

Even though they clearly did. 

Okay. Deep breathes. You don't want to have another panic attack. Especially in a place where someone stole your brother's invention, possibly with magic. 

Who are you kidding, probably with magic. 

Do you smell smoke?

Okay, no. Stop. Think. Just think. 

You raise your hand to your forehead, and rake it through your hair. You realize that your covered in sweat, and your heart is beating pretty fast. Fuck. 

You're having another panic attack. 

Since you aren't standing up the nausea hasn't hit you fully yet, and the vertigo isn't to bad. You breathe heavily. Through your nose. 

Every part of this is your fault. 

You breathe hard, or rather you forcible try to expel air from your lungs. 

How do you even begin to rationalize this. 

You're probably making a lot of noise. 

You shove a hand into your pocket to pull the Machine out, slide through the menus until you see your own heart beating rapidly. 

If you breathe, this will slow down, everything will be fine. You will be fine. Just calm down. 

Yes. Because telling yourself to calm down has always worked. 

Fucking clearly. 

On an impulse, you slid over to Hiro's screen. 

It helps. You slid to the GPS.

Hiro is fine. Hiro is fine. Hiro is fine. 

Your heart calms down. 

You fall onto your back with the Machine in your hand. 

Yeah.

Just take a minute. 

 

.-.-.-.

 

When you come to, the machines below you aren't making any noise anymore. You are also laying on your stomach. With out your hoodie or shirt on The machine is laying a foot away from you. You really need to charge that thing. You sit up slowly. 

And promptly freak the fuck out. 

The boxes of microbots are gone. Your hoodie is nowhere to be seen. Your shirt is laying next to you. 

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. 

You don't even remember going to sleep. 

Your pants are still on, as are your shoes, you don't feel like anything was done to you, other than drugging you into a panic attack. Apparently. 

What time is it? 

You try to find a window that isn't boarded up. It seems to be sunset. So, 7ish. Okay. Could be worse. You stand up. Your legs are shaking. You pick up the Machine and walk to the window you came in from. A minute later you're outside. You cross your arms to retain some warmth.

You can feel the burns on the back or your forearms. 

Life fucking sucks. 

 

.-.-.-.

 

You catch a bus back to the shop, trying to cover any exposed burns as best you can. No one stares are you, so you think you manged fine. When you get off at your bus stop you see Fred's car leave the sidewalk. You also see Hiro wave the car away. 

“Hey.” 

You jog up to him put a hand in his hair. 

“Hey yourself.” 

He ducks away from you laughing. 

“Race you to our room?”

A good run always did do you good.

“Loser makes the winner cookies?” 

Him and his sweet tooth. Which reminds you, you should schedule him for a dentist appointment. 

“Sure.” You say. “On three.”

He nods. 

“One. Two.” You pause and he looks at you expectedly. 

“Three!” 

You both bound across the street, down one block and almost crash through the door of the cafe. 

“Hey Aunt Cass!” You both yell. 

“Don't hurt yourselves!” She yells back, but you're taking the stairs three at a time, your lungs are burning, and your muscles are screaming at you. You have more important things to do. Up another floor, and then you touch the door knob, yank it open, almost fall on your face, but. 

You win. 

You collapse on the floor, breathing heavily. 

Hiro collapses on you, knocking all the air out of your lungs. 

“Guess you win.” He says in between heaves. 

“Guess I do.” You smile. 

This is nice. 

After a minute of agony, you roll him off you and get up to find the charger for the Machine. You hook it up. 

“Someone owes someone else cookies. Don't think I'm letting you skimp.” You say and you tug your sweaty shirt off to pull on another one. 

Hiro stares at you. 

For a long time. 

“Hiro?”

It takes him a second. 

“I'm just mentally preparing myself for oatmeal raisin. Because you secretly have no soul.” 

You nod.

“Thats me. No soul, no major health risks. How do I live with myself?” 

That made him laugh.

You count it as a win. 

He gets up too, shuffles over to you, and hugs you. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

You look down at him. 

“Of course. I would tell you if I wasn't. Right?”

“I would hope so. Nerd.” He says and laughs again. “Seriously though. Let me make chocolate chip. Please. Have mercy.”

“You can make half and half.” 

“Victory! I'm counting it! I win!”

“Yes. Victory for Hiro. You loser. Go make your cookies.” He jumps up laughing and bolts down the stairs. 

Victory for you. 

Just as your about to go downstairs and chastise him again the Machine beeps its revival. Good to know you didn't break it on the run over here. You walk over to it and then you see a notification. One of Hiro's games must have updated. Maybe someone patched in an easier version of Hotline Miami. Oh god please. 

You pick up the device (another wining name) and tap the notification to see what it is. It automatically opens the a program. You see the familiar heart beating at you. An arrow points up. A text bubble appears.

New Contact has been made. 

You swipe to the left through all of the characters but you don't see any new ones. You scroll through a couple more times, and there really isn't any new thing there. You accidentally stop on Callaghan. Because of course you do. 

The little figure points down. You accommodate it.

“Sync Complete.” Says a high pitched voice. 

…  
…  
…  
…  
…

Ugh?

What?

You swipe to the right, then to the left, and

what?

no.

seriously.

what?

So when the Machine said new contact. It meant. 

what.

 

When did Callaghan touch your Machine?

 

no.

seriously. 

what 

the 

fuck

.-.-.-.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> Tell me if there are any obvious spelling mistakes, or grammar mistakes, or mistake mistakes.   
> My tumblr is iamalivenow.   
> Swing by.   
> Till next time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so so sorry about the long wait  
> My life is a mess, but it should be better now.  
> I mean, maybe.   
> Who knows.
> 
> To make up for that, this chapter does have some passive aggressive masturbation to make up for it.
> 
> I really don't know if it'll help, but.   
> I tried.  
> Also, do my linebreakers look weird to you?  
> not beta'd

Great googly moogly everything has gone to shit. 

Holy humdinger, batman!

Your life is garbage. 

How does any of this even happen to you? What did you do in another life that warranted all of this? How many people must you have murdered for this to be your fate? This is the epitome of disaster.

After screaming abuse at Fred on the phone in a back alley for half an hour, you are no closer at an answer. If anything you're pretty sure Fred isn't going to talk to you for a while. Or he's going to get so stoned, he won't remember, and why does this matter?

That thing clearly isn't normal. 

You clearly aren't normal. 

You also aren't getting anywhere by making angry faces at rats. 

Breathe in, breathe out.

You walk back into the cafe and up the stairs into your room, where Hiro is lounged out on his bed playing with the Machine. You feel like someone just dumped ice water all over you. 

“Whoa, Dashi, you okay? You look like you just killed someone. Did you?” You shake your head. 

“Are you okay?” You ask back staring at the Machine in his hands. 

You really need to come up with a better name for it.

“Yeah?” He stared at you. “Why wouldn't I be?” You just sort of point at the root of all evil in his hands. “Oh. Yeah, I'm great. Beat your score in N++ today. It took a while, but good luck beating my record anytime soon, so good luck with that.”

“Video games rot your brain.”

You stalk to your side of the room toeing off your sneakers and socks as you go along. 

“What bit your ass?” He calls at you. 

Oh nothing much, just the progressive reassurance that You've either lost your mind or that your lost all feeling in your back for nothing. But other then that...

“I'm just tired.” 

You tug off your shirt and throw it at the hamper in your corner. 

“Want to watch a movie or something?” He set down the Machine and walked over to the flimsy divider next to your bed. You don't bother to turn to look at him and just sort of stare at the hamper. “We can watch what ever you want. Or Netflix or something.” 

A tradition that you and Hiro had after either one of you had a bad day. Mindless hours of Netflix. X-files or House, usually. Once you and Hiro sat through two seasons of Glee when you were both sick. It was a special kind off of awful you could only share with him. You both thought you were going to die in your sleep so you might as well go big or go home. What you wouldn't give to go back to that time. 

He is so still right now, so quiet you almost don't believe he's in the room. You can only see him in your periphery, but you can tell he's nervous again. Worried. Probably re-living what you made him go through. Awful. 

You turn sharply and walk directly in front of him, and pivot around. You grab his hands and put them on your back. He shudders a breathe. 

“I'm still here. I may be bruised, broken, and really really wrinkly,” Crazy. “But I'm still here. I promise.” Do you?

“Can you even feel this?” 

You can't. You feel the pressure, just barely, but if you wouldn't have put his hands there yourself you wouldn't have even known they were there. 

“No.” But you grab his hands and pull them around to your front, where the skin is only barely marred, tugging him into a hug. “I feel that.” You can't feel his breathe against your skin even though you hear it. Can't feel his hair scratch at you even though you know it there. Can't feel his tears. 

Don't think about that. 

“Are you real?” He asked and your heart breaks all over again. 

“Yes.” 

You turn around and drop to your knees front of him, your hands wiping away the tears from his face. 

“I swear.”

He looks down at you. 

“Always.” 

You nod. You won't leave him. Not ever. 

“Always.” 

He sighs pretty harshly for someone as young as him. He pulls you up and nudges you to your bed and you sit obediently. He walks over to the TV. 

“What do you want to watch?”

It only takes you a second to think of the answer.

“Glee.”

Hiro snorts so hard you think he might hurt himself. 

“You fucking nerd.” 

 

.-.-.-.-.

 

 

It's about two in the morning when you come to again. Hiro is checked out on your shoulder snoring lightly. You think you got through about five episodes, but you really aren't sure. All of the characters problems seem really similar, and it blurred together pretty quickly. 

You think about shaking Hiro awake, but opt out of it. You tug his over clothes of and put him under the covers of your bed. 

You, however, need a shower. 

Panic attacks and questioning reality will do that to you. 

You get up, grab a pair of clean boxers and a really soft tank top and leave your room. Aunt Cass is asleep in her bedroom. You can tell as much by the snoring. You think you might be the only one in this house who doesn't actually snore. Even Mochi does sometimes. 

You shiver a little when your feet come in contact with the tiled bathroom. You turn the shower on and strip your clothes off. While you wait for the water to heat up you stare at the mirror above the sink. 

You look like you haven't slept in a year. 

There's steam rising off of the shower stream so you step under it.

The hot water feels divine. 

You scrub rather violently at all of yourself, till your skin is raw, but you feel a lot lighter and cleaner. 

Almost happy for the first time in a while. You look down at yourself. Your front really didn't take the brunt of the damage, so at least you have that going for you. 

Hmm. 

Well.

You put a hand to your chest and slowly drag it down. 

Most of your body hair burned off, but some off it was growing back slowly. It was softer then it was before. 

You were softer then you were before. 

The new skin had a sort of pliancy to it that your old skin didn't. Almost silken to the touch. To young to be weathered by life. 

Thats it. Just keep look at the positive side. 

By the time your hand reaches its desired location you are half hard. 

What a creep. 

You start pulling at your self, with a type of gentleness you never applied to yourself before. 

Are you seriously getting off to the proof of your almost death? 

Really?

You twist yourself slightly and it drags a moan from your chest that you feel reverberate in your skull. 

You palm at the head, drag your finger through the slit. 

Another moan. 

You start pulling harder and harder, another hand going up to your now hard nipples and dragging. 

Nothing like death to make you appreciate the finer things in life. 

Like masturbation. 

You mean masturbation. 

Your hand moves rapidly, tagging the foreskin back and forth. 

God, this feels so good. 

What are you even thinking about? What are you getting off to?

It is two in the morning and you are jerking it to your continued existence. 

You come after a minute more, your hand moving quickly and your other occupying itself with your nipples. 

You spill cloudier then usual liquid into your hand and watch it rush down the drain.

It really has been a while.

 

.-.-.-.-.

 

After you tug on your boxers and tank top you stare at the mirror again. You look healthier, at least slightly. You roll your head back and forth listening to your bones pop. 

The simple pleasures in life. 

Self abuse and air leaving your joints. 

You are a class act. 

You pad back to your room and crawl into your bed. 

You forgot that Hiro was in there as well. 

You debate going into his bed but ultimately decided against it. It's cold in your room and Hiro is a warm body. You lay still staring at the ceiling listening to Hiro breathe. 

He slowly wraps his arms around you. 

This isn't all that rare an occurrence, but neither of you have done it in a while. You wrap around him, inhaling his scent and pressing your nose into his hair. 

You never noticed this, but Hiro is pretty soft too.

Warm as well. 

Perfect. 

“Always.”

You are garbage. 

 

 

.-.-.-.-.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed.  
> The next one should come out sooner then this one did.   
> I hope.   
> Thank you so much.

**Author's Note:**

> [iamalivenow](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) is me on tumblr, come say hi, I'm nice, I swear. 
> 
> Comments always appreciated. 
> 
> If you make anything, please tag me in it! 
> 
> ✧*｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*｡


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